Company is hard to screw up. Solid book, beautiful score, complex characters, funny and touching moments, easily relatable themes - there’s something here for everyone. So when John Doyle announced that the concept he’d used for Sweeny Todd, in which the actors also played all the orchestrations, would be used again or his recreation of Company, I was pleased.

Company is just as effective as Sweeney, if not more so. But somehow it left me cold. I think that was the intent, so good on him. The set is bleak, ultra-modern and sterile. Everyone is dressed in harsh lines, and in all black. It’s a wealthy, pretty, but harsh and lonely world.

Raul Esparza as Bobby was a different take on the character than I’d previously considered. Kind of a loner, you’re not sure if his friends actually like him, or just pity him for being so desperately alone. Not necessarily the kind of guy you want hanging around your house. And furthermore, why doesn’t he have any single friends! The whole show is about him and his relationships with his 3 sets of married friends. And a few girls he dates. Strong subtext that he’s gay, or asexual, or just happy being single - these are all played. The ending aria, Being Alive, is his finally realizing that he hasn’t really been living - and wants someone to share his life with - who that person is, remains to be seen. You’re also left with the feeling that his relationships with all these married people has been hurting him more than anything else.

Anyway, everyone knows what this show is about and all it’s complexities. What works especially well here is the fact that the whole cast also acts as the pit orchestra - but it’s not as noticeable, somehow as it was in Sweeney. Perhaps because Sweeney is mostly all music, and Company has a lot more scene work, in which you really got to see a character without their instruments in hand, making them somehow more well-developed. Also, all in all, the singing was better in this production. As the cast was larger, it had a bigger, more well rounded ensemble sound than Sweeney’s, which wasn’t quite as epic as I wanted it to be.

What also worked incredibly well were the new orchestrations. I’ve always found the original recording of Company to sound very much like it came out of the Seventies. Which it did. This production took out every cheesy beat or note that dated it, and made it sound fresh and modern - not from any particular era (except perhaps, now).

What didn’t strike me as particularly effective was the staging. In many of the scenes, the actors don’t talk to each other, instead, they deliver the lines straight out to the audience. Clearly an exercise in lack of communication and connection. The best example of this is during the karate scene, in which a man and wife are demonstrating karate moves on each other, and are on opposite ends of the stage, facing the audience, yet reacting physically as if they were touching. Something felt odd and choppy about this staging, yet it’s intent was clear.

Perhaps it’s my age talking, but Esparza’s depiction of Bobby was frighteningly realistic and touching. No one wants to be alone, and his subtle yet maddening fear of this comes through loud and clear. And as a brilliant piece of direction, he’s the only cast member who doesn’t play an instrument - until the very end. He accompanies himself for the first half of “Being Alive,” as if he’s finally caving in to his own recognition that he wants to be part of the married/instrumental club that his other friends are already a part of. The simple act of him sitting at a piano and finally bringing himself to become a part of that world - kind of an obvious symbolic moment, yet still effective. I was very moved. Especially because you’re not sure of the specificity of his desires.

A great production, a great concept, mostly good performances, but some problems with the direction. Here endeth the review.

The ignorant theatregoer that I am, I didn’t realize that Roundabout Theatre Company’s mission statement is to revive old, forgotten musicals. This now makes sense to me, based on every show I’ve seen of theirs over the past few years. However, the last two have been older and more forgettable than I like my musicals.

Other Roundabout revivals have been known for their edginess, darkness, sex appeal, etc - some bit of a sense of new-ness. Cabaret, Threepenny Opera, Pacific Overtures, and Assassins all fit in with one or more of these adjectives. However, The Apple Tree (previously reviewed) and now, with 110 in the Shade (also at Studio 54), are indicators that Roundabout has turned away from the edgy, and toward the stuffy.

The show is written by Tom Jones and Harvey Schmidt, who are better known for The Fantasticks. Book by N. Richard Nash. It is old fashioned, silly, riddled with sexism and silliness, plot inconsistencies, and in no way relevant to the world of today. Unless their goal is to display the world of yesterday. And how silly it was.

The plot follows Lizzie, a young, shy girl, worshipped by her brother and father, but due to her “plainness” (we call it “ugly” nowadays), never been a head-turner, and therefore ignorant to the ways of men. When a con-artist/rainman comes to town, promising to end the drought, he teaches Lizzie that she is indeed beautiful, and sweeps her off her feet with grand tales. She learns that she is indeed special. Then there’s the local sheriff, who her brother had tried to set her up with in the beginning of the show, who then becomes the villain, as he tries to arrest the con-man - then we see that he’s in love with her too - and oh my god, a plain woman has to choose between two men who are fighting over her. She picks the sheriff, who is kind of a jerk, punches her brother in an earlier scene, and it’s never established why they even like each other. What you do know is why she doesn’t pick the con-man. Even though he clearly loves her, he loves the fantasy/goddess idea of her. And she just wants to be Lizzie. Doesn’t want to live up to the fantasy. Which is, I guess, a nice sentiment. She learns to love herself for who she is, and finds a man who does too.

Like I said, some plot problems.

Songs are mostly forgettable. “Old Maid,” the act 1 closer, is a powerful aria expressing the fear of dying alone, and is probably the most known piece of the show. “Raunchy” was performed on the Tony’s this year, making it the only other song I’d ever heard before from the score.

Two reasons to see this show.
1) Audra McDonald, as always, is a revelation. She is undoubtedly a genius. She made a really shit show completely watchable. She is captivating every moment she is on that stage, which is most of the time. A true broadway diva, she’s created a totally believable character, yet you never forget that it’s her - she’s such a star.

Side note -
Problems with casting Audra in this role.
Kind of an odd/interesting casting choice. Lizzie is traditionally a white character, and the choice to cast a black actress, and never mention or account for the fact that the rest of her family is white, is interesting. It just doesn’t matter in this seemingly colorblind universe. On a similar note, her brother’s love interest is black. However, it’s odd that this colorblind universe also happens to exist during an extremely racist time and place in American history, so that’s a bit of a clash there.

Also, Lizzie is supposed to be ugly. Audra is no where close to ugly, no matter how you cut it. Pull her hair back, no makeup - the woman is still pretty. And as wonderful as she was in the role, there are plenty of ugly white women who would have loved to play the role, and there aren’t too many roles out there for ugly people, so I’m always bitter when the pretty people get rewarded yet again. I felt the same way about Charlize Theron being uglied up for her role in the film “Monster.”

oh, and 2) - The rain effect at the end is AWESOME.
Except for when you exit the theatre into an actual rainstorm, without an umbrella, and freeze all the way home on the subway, and curse Audra and her rain-makin’ boyfriend.

I know, I know, I can’t believe I hadn’t seen it yet either. The dream team of William Finn’s writing and James Lapine’s staging was something I had been dying to see. Unfortunately, it was such a hit that it suddenly got very difficult to get tickets to. So I forgot about it for about 3 years, then took my mom recently when she was in town. I’m sorry I had to wait so long to see it, but based on the performance, and the audience reaction, I don’t think it’s lost too much of it’s appeal in the last few years. Still packin’ ‘em in; still a crowd pleaser. I was pleased.

The plot centers around the evening of the Putnam County’s 25th Annual Spelling Bee. Contestants are brought to life through arias that tell of their situations, and we grow to love them, as they are one by one, sadly, eliminated, leaving only the winner. The performers in this cast, with one or two exceptions, are absolutely easy to fall in love with instantly. Cute as can be. Catchy score, although the singers aren’t always given the opportunity to show off their singing chops - the priority usually has more to do with diction and nailing the joke. But the real star of this show is the book. Rachel Sheinkin has compiled some of the funniest, yet clean and accessible jokes I’ve seen on Broadway. A lot of the show is topical, meaning, there are bits that change over time as things occur in the media and pop culture (i.e., a reference to Scooter Libby). But many of the jokes are unchanging and timeless. Perfect opportunity for a great punchline everytime a contestant says, “may I have the definition please…”

According to my mom, all the young kids in the audience looked really confused during the adolescent rant, “My Unfortunate Erection.” Which is really the only adult-ish humor in the show - most of the rest is squeaky clean and smart. Like the Ellen Degeneres show.

Helping the comedy along nicely is Darryl Hammond, as the vice principal, and host of the Bee. On summer break from Saturday Night Live, his Broadway debut is weclome in this role.

While the music is not as memorable as in some of Finn’s other pieces (I’m a big fan of “A New Brain”), the evening as a whole is joyous, touching, and you’re laughing every minute. Adding to the mayhem is the fact that 4 of the contestants each performance are picked from the audience. While they are selected and briefed before the show, their participation is purely unrehearsed. The “loose cannon” factor is high here, as anything might happen, and they remain on stage for a good chunk of the show. Somehow they manage to stage entire song and dance numbers around the 4 random people, without making them detract from the main action- a brilliant piece of stagecraft. Their departures are clearly pre-determined by the difficulty of the words given (except on this night, when the contestant spelled a very difficult word correctly, and they all broke character and laughed in surprise, forcing them to give her an even harder word in order to get her off the stage - not sure if this was real or staged, but it looked like a real improv moment).

Anyway - not to be missed. Hilarious, exciting and touching. And finally available for discount tickets.

I’ll basically see any show at Second Stage. This ultra-modern off-Broadway venue, in the heart of the theatre district, is known for it’s cutting edge work. But mostly, their shows are unbelievably pretty. Such is no exception in Sarah Ruhl’s bleak spin on the Orpheus and Eurydice myth.

When the young, vibrant Eurydice plummets to her death on her wedding day, she’s transported into an underworld purgatory/hell/afterlife, in which her memory has been completely wiped. There, she meets the man who was her father in life, who slowly helps her to regain the memories of who she once was. When Orpheus comes down to rescue and reclaim his bride, she calls out to him, forcing him to look back at her, which was forbidden in his agreement with the Lord of the Underworld, causing him to lose her to the depths below, forever. Eventually, he joins her there, his memory as blank as hers was before; not knowing who she is. I assume she begins the rebuilding process all over again, as her father did for her.

The play is an abstract exploration on several themes. Most strongly, those of family and of memory. Lost love is no so much a theme, more a plot device. Her reasoning for her own self sabotage is puzzling, however. In this version, it’s pretty clear that she calls out to Orpheus with the explicit intent that he will fail, and she will stay lost. It’s an odd choice - the underworld is made to seem a cold and dark place, even with the love of a father nearby.

The poetry of the text is quite beautiful in places. The character development and casting is a bit spotty, unfortunately. Maria Dizzia is excellent as the quirky Eurydice. She turns what might have been quite an allegorical character very human, flawed, and interesting. Gian-Murray Gianino is less convincing as the skinny-rocker interpretation of Orpheus. Clearly cast for his ability to resemble a band member of The Strokes, and not for his acting. Not that it was bad; but there are better hottie-romantic leads out there, and the two of them don’t have much chemistry, unfortunately. I was also confused by the casting of the Lord of the Underworld, who’s name I can’t seem to find anywhere (sorry!) the character is written and performed like a 15 year old skater-punk, yet the actor is clearly mature, making him appear as a creepy man-child, not the ruler of all the underworld. Strange choice. Also bizzarely presented were the characters of the three stones - this play’s Greek Chorus. Three fossilized, highly stylized and creepy narrator/conscience/seer characters, who speak in riddles and basically float around moralizing and talking in funny voices, and look like Tim Burton villain monsters. Not ineffective, in fact, quite effective and interesting, yet seemed to be far more abstract than every other aspect of the play. So a bit of a problem meshing with the rest of this universe.

The music choices were odd, and I didn’t care at ALL for the use of pop songs (such as Guns -n- Roses and Nirvana tunes) - it totally pulls you out of the mysterious underworld and into a modern radio vibe. Dangerous to use such popular music as a soundtrack for a piece - these songs already carry to much meaning for us to disassociate them from whatever we associate them with. The original classical-esque pieces that were composed for the play were gorgeous and effective, and they should have stuck with that for the entirety of the work.

But of course, the real winner, as is with all Second Stage shows, is the set. The whole stage is tiled, with grates. As Eurydice goes into the underworld, she takes an elevator, which douses her with water as she emerges, which then runs over the stage and into the grates on the floor, creating a subterranean basement wet world. Water is everywhere in this show, and it is beautifully harnessed as a contribution to the set.

Beautiful piece of work, although I’m not sure the show as a whole lives up to the gorgeousness of the physical environment in which it was so artfully placed.